Seca Verde
Zezé Di Camargo & Luciano
Dry Green
Charcoal, bonfire, rural burning
Hoe in the pit, weed on the edge
Nettle in the bush, ant on the leaf
The rain doesn't come, the drought takes us away
Desire to plant and harvest
And no water to drink
Desire to plant and harvest
And no water to drink
On the shoulder the bag, sugar and salt
Beans and flour, crystal in the little bowl
Time steals from us, brackish water
Cotton, not a pound, of fruit, only pine
The Juazeiro is still green
And these people are happy
Quenching their thirst
Attached to their roots
If I were water
From the old Chico I would flood this land
Then I would wage a different kind of war
Without hunger, only abundance
But I am not water
And I am not rich enough to make
The old Chico flow
On this cracked ground, on this hard land
In this dry green, lives a noble people
Dying of thirst in this poor war
In this dry green, lives a noble people
Dying of thirst in this poor war
If I were water
From the old Chico I would flood this land
Then I would wage a different kind of war
Without hunger, only abundance
But I am not water
And I am not rich enough to make
The old Chico flow
On this cracked ground, on this hard land
In this dry green, lives a noble people
Dying of thirst in this poor war
In this dry green, lives a noble people
Dying of thirst in this poor war
In this dry green, lives a noble people
Dying of thirst in this poor war
In this dry green, lives a noble people
Dying of thirst in this poor war
In this dry green, lives a noble people
Dying of thirst in this poor war
In this dry green, lives a noble people
Dying of thirst in this poor war
